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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29925507">Lost in Darkness</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lunedd/pseuds/Lunedd'>Lunedd</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Old Guard (Movie 2020)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Blood and Gore, Blood and Violence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Flashbacks, Historical Inaccuracy, Hurt/Comfort, Immortal Husbands Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Major Character Death (temporary), Returning Home, just a glimpse back in time, kind of how Joe x Nicky began</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 21:35:17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,721</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29925507</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lunedd/pseuds/Lunedd</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>In the months of fighting for his faith, his country, his people, Yusuf had seen horrible things. Disembodied limbs, severed heads, men who had been gutted by vultures. </p><p>At night, he woke up from nightmares, created from the memories his mind tried to process. Nicolò was there, then, a constant presence hovering nearby, always willing to give comfort by talking to him or by allowing Yusuf to simply scream and curse at him. </p><p>But this… Yusuf wasn’t sure he could handle it.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>107</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/karanoid/gifts">karanoid</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This story is dedicated to karanoidandroid. Thanks for everything. You know what I'm talking about. :) I hope you'll like it.</p><p>A big THANK YOU goes to my muse, my angel, my hero, my soul sister - NatalieRyan. You always pick me up when I'm down and encourage me.<br/>Another just as big THANK YOU goes to the wonderful sal_si_puedes whose stories and writing style I've come to adore - thanks for spontaneously beta-reading this here, you have no idea how glad that made me!<br/>And last, but not least, thank you so much to N1ghtshade who gave it a final check.<br/>Ah, almost forgot someone: thanks to alohaspaceman for the Italian translation. I can always count on you.<br/>You guys rock! And if (and I have no doubt here) there are mistakes left, they are all on me.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/><p><b><em>Today</em> </b> </p><p>"Hey, Joe, do you-" A hand, firm and warm, landed on Nile‘s shoulder and squeezed it with a determined grip. Nile turned and looked at Andy, surprised to see pain and weariness in the other woman‘s eyes she hadn’t even seen when Andy got shot mere hours before. </p><p>"Don’t," Andy simply said and shook her head. "Leave ‘em."</p><p>Nile gestured with her thumb over the shoulder, in the general direction she knew Nicky and Joe had to be. "I just wanted to ask Joe if he-"</p><p>"Not today." There was a gentle, sad smile on Andy‘s lips before she pursed them, a glint in her eyes. "Ask him tomorrow. Besides, I need someone to patch me up, right? Can‘t really go to a hospital. My birth date might blow up their computers." </p><p>"Okay." Nile wanted to ask what this was all about, what was going on, but then followed Andy in silence. All of this would probably take a lifetime to explain, and by now Nile had already learned that there was no way to make the others talk if they didn’t want to. Well. A lifetime was at her service. More than one, actually. She cast a glance at Nicky and Joe, the latter in a firm, all-encompassing embrace of the first one. Nicky was blowing a soft kiss to Joe‘s sweat-and-blood-soaked temple before the door to the bathroom closed behind them. </p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Joe didn‘t move when Nicky started to undress. He stared into the mirror in the spacious bathroom of the apartment Copley had provided them with, but Nicky knew he didn’t really see anything. </p><p><em> "Tesoro</em>, come." Nicky stepped up to Joe and put his head on Joe‘s shoulder. Their eyes met in the mirror. </p><p>"He shot you, Nicky." Joe’s voice was nothing but a hoarse whisper. "He shot you in the mouth, he grabbed your hair, and his face… his face…" Joe’s voice broke, and he blinked rapidly. </p><p>Nicky hummed deep down in his throat, waiting for Joe to go on. 900 and more years of knowing each other had attuned him to the other man, made him know when to interfere, and when to simply listen.</p><p>"I broke my promise. <em> Habibi</em>, I broke the promise I gave, and I… I…"</p><p>"You killed him because he was a threat to all of us. The greatest threat, to be precise." Nicky kept his voice low and even, despite all the emotions that trembled through him. Joe needed him strong, now. </p><p><em> The moon when I‘m lost in darkness. </em> </p><p>"I killed him in cold blood. I killed him as revenge. I… I swore not to do such a thing, and yet I broke it. After 900 years, I broke it." Joe buried his face in his hands. </p><p>"It was the right thing to do." Nicky did not move, although everything inside of him wanted to burst out. He wanted to grab Joe, wanted to wrap himself around the other man like a blanket, wanted to drown all of Joe’s sorrow and self-deprecation with sweet words of comfort. But he knew Joe wasn‘t there yet. All of his attempts of taking away Joe‘s pain would be futile. </p><p>"You make it sound so cold." Joe had lowered his hands, blood-flaked fingers cramped around the rim of the sink, fingernails going white with the force in his grip.</p><p>"Not cold. Rational." Nicky put his hands over Joe‘s, thumbs gently caressing the raising of his knuckles. "Come, <em> tesoro</em>. Let‘s get cleaned up." He slowly let his left hand glide over Joe‘s, slipping his fingers between those of Joe. Nicky minutely exhaled when Joe eased his grip on the sink and turned his hand, so he could hold Nicky‘s. A first step was made. </p><p>He led Joe to the shower. It was luxurious, big enough for both men to step into after they took off all of their soiled clothes. Nicky gave himself a quick cleansing first, then gently took care of Joe, turning him with hushed words and soft touches this way and that. When he finally made Joe bow his head and lathered his hair, fingers carefully disentangling the curls from all the blood and gore and dirt, he could feel Joe take a deep, shaky breath and start to tremble. Nicky rinsed the curls and turned off the water, stepped out of the shower, and grabbed one of the towels. He slung it around his hips, grabbed the second towel, and cocooned Joe in it, gently rubbing Joe dry. He led him to the adjoining bedroom and helped him lie down under the covers, joining him after a second. </p><p>They laid on their sides, facing each other. Nicky threaded one of his legs through Joe‘s, pulling him closer until their foreheads touched and their breaths mingled. Nicky slung his upper arm over Joe‘s shoulder, caressing his back with slow, gentle circles of his fingers, while his other hand snaked under Joe‘s cheek, ready to chase away the chilliness that had gripped Joe‘s body. </p><p>
  <em> And warmth when I shiver in cold. </em>
</p><p>"Sleep, <em> tesoro mio</em>. Sleep."</p><p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b> <em>Then</em> </b>
</p><p>Yusuf stared at the smoldering remnants of the house, but what eyes transmitted to mind, said mind couldn’t quite grasp. The body of a boy was lying grotesquely twisted in what had been the front garden, a garden that had been arranged and lovingly been taken care of by Yusuf’s mother. The white gravel of the path leading to what used to be the front door, that gravel from a country far away that had cost his father a fortune (and that had taken months to bring to their new home) was scattered and dulled by a dirt Yusuf didn’t want to know the source of. </p><p>"<em>No</em>." </p><p>He wasn’t aware that he had uttered the word, nor that he had fallen to his knees until he felt Nicolò‘s hand on his shoulder. The touch grounded him, and at the same time tore him back into cruel reality. </p><p>"Latif." He whispered the name, slowly climbing back to his feet. Yusuf started an uneven gait toward the broken body of the boy. When he reached him, he blinked and squatted down, moving a trembling hand to the blood-sodden tousled curls without touching them. "Latif, my brother, what did they do to you?" His voice was merely a moan, a sound full of pain. The small body was almost naked; some scraps of cloth were all that was left of what once had been a white woolen tunic. His pants were gone, and Yusuf moaned again when he saw the blood that smeared the dead boy‘s thighs. The child’s throat had been slit, his blood a large dark patch underneath him.</p><p>"No, please…"</p><p>Steps behind him made Yusuf tense and spin around, still crouched, dagger already in hand and ready to slash at whoever might dare attack him.</p><p>Nicolò lifted his hands disarmingly. "It’s just me." He spoke in the Common Tongue, a language they were both fluent in. </p><p>Yusuf looked at the boy, then at Nicolò again. "He was nine. He was just a boy. How… why…" The hand that held the dagger shook visibly, and Yusuf tightened his grip until his knuckles turned white. "We are merchants. We do not fight. We do not take part in religious discourses. We live a simple and devout life! So again, Nicolò… why? Why did your people attack my family? This house? Why do your people have to destroy and steal and then burn everything to the ground?" He finally dared to touch the dead boy‘s hair and gently caressed his smashed temple. </p><p>"When Latif sang, he had a beautiful voice. Why did they kill him? There was no evil in him, he never hurt another living being." His voice broke, and this was the moment Nicolò finally moved and went down to a knee next to Yusuf. </p><p>"I have no answers to your questions. This is not<em> just</em>. This cannot be<em> right</em>. God cannot want us to murder innocent people." Nicolò shook his head, slowly, his sea-colored eyes filled with sadness.  </p><p>"Huh." Yusuf pushed himself back to his feet and stumbled forward, to the ruin of the house. "If you all had this mindset before you came into my lands, a lot of good men would still be alive." Despite the sharp words, his voice was devoid of any emotion. He saw from the corner of his eye how Nicolò bowed his head in a silent acknowledgment. Yusuf ignored him, concentrating on the effort to get to the house. With every step he took, it seemed his legs gained weight and made him pant when he finally reached what had been the heavy, wooden door at the entrance. </p><p>In the months of fighting for his faith, his country, his people, Yusuf had seen horrible things. Disembodied limbs, severed heads, men who had been gutted by vultures. </p><p>At night, he woke up from nightmares, created from the memories his mind tried to process. Nicolò was there, then, a constant presence hovering nearby, always willing to give comfort by talking to him or by allowing Yusuf to simply scream and curse at him. </p><p>But this… Yusuf wasn’t sure he could handle it. This was<em> his </em>house, the home he had lived in through so many happy times. He kicked at the remains of the door, sending them down to the floor. </p><p>Everything was destroyed. Blackened, burnt, twisted by the fire that had consumed everything Yusuf had known by heart inside the house. Yusuf felt how bile rose in his throat as he walked into the room where the fireplace had been, where his mother had led the governance over the old cook. There were the remains of several people, piled in one corner. </p><p>Yusuf bent forward, arms slung tight around his chest. Dead. They were all dead. He screamed.</p><p>"Yusuf!" </p><p>Nicolò's voice from outside startled Yusuf and brought him back to reality. He reached up and touched his face when he felt something wet on his cheeks. Was it raining? The roof of the house was gone, burnt like the rest of it, but no. When Yusuf turned his head, the sky was as clear and cloudless as it had been minutes before. </p><p><em> Oh. </em> </p><p>He brought a finger to his cheek to gather up some of the moisture and brought it to his lips. Salty. </p><p><em> Tears, then. </em>He felt strangely dispatched from his body, as if he was an observer. Yusuf forced his legs to comply when Nicolò called again, the urgency in his voice ringing out.</p><p>"<em>YUSUF</em>!"</p><p>He moved outside, to the backyard of the house with clumsy steps and stared at Nicolò who was kneeling next to a body, cradling its upper part in his arms.</p><p><em> No. Not a body</em>. As Yusuf came closer, he saw the erratic rise and fall of the woman’s chest. </p><p>
  <em> She’s alive. </em>
</p><p>"Grandmother." Yusuf breathed the word and was almost startled when the woman in Nicolò's arms moved. She turned her head, and Yusuf moaned. Her face was swollen where she had been hit by the intruders, one eye invisible in the bloody gore that covered her features.</p><p>"Yusuf." Barely audible, but still, it sent Yusuf down to his knees, made him crawl over to her, unable to bear the weight of what had happened any longer. </p><p>"Rima." She could barely whisper the word.</p><p>"All dead, grandmother. They are all dead." A sob wrenched out of his tight throat. "They killed them all." </p><p>"No. Rima." The woman gasped for air, and Nicolò lowered her a bit to help her breathe easier. </p><p>"They are all inside the house. They burnt them." Yusuf’s hands twitched in his lap, too scared to touch the dying woman. </p><p>"Rima. He took her." </p><p>"What… who?" Yusuf shifted and leaned forward. The woman’s voice was getting weaker. "Do you know who did this? Did you see in which direction they went? And what about Rima?"</p><p>The woman turned her head again and looked straight at Nicolò, now. She shuddered but stared into his eyes with an unwavering gaze. "Red scar across his face. Pale skin, ugly bright eyes. One of<em> them. </em> A man like him." She tried to spit, but she was already too weak, and so her saliva just dribbled out of one corner of her mouth. </p><p>"Where did they go? And what about Rima?" </p><p>"East. He took her with him after he.... she was screaming. She was screaming when they left." </p><p>Yusuf moaned and buried his face in his hands, fingers pulling at his curls. </p><p>"Get her. Save her." </p><p>Yusuf lifted his head. "But what about-" He broke off when he saw how the woman in Nicolò's arms went stiff and then limp. "No. No no no no <em> NO</em>!" He surged forward, desperately willing her to take another breath, to look at him. Nicolò gently laid her down and closed her eyes. He lowered his head, murmured something.</p><p>Yusuf groaned in pain. "Stop it. Stop IT! Don’t you dare stain her with your filthy Christian words! They already brought enough suffering into the world!" He leaped forward and pushed Nicolò, shoved him away from his grandmother. Nicolò fell backward, hands slightly raised, eyes full of compassion. Yusuf stumbled a few steps backward, shaking his head. </p><p>"I want this to end. I want this all to end!" The tears streamed freely now. "Why couldn’t you kill me?! Do it again, I beg of you… do it again, and thorough this time, so I stay dead!"</p><p>The tears had blurred his vision because he didn’t see Nicolò come closer. But he felt the other man’s arms around his shoulders, pulling him into an embrace, and holding onto it, although Yusuf fought against it at first. Then, when Nicolò didn’t let go, Yusuf succumbed to the solace the arms around him offered. </p><p>He had felt the other man‘s arms often around him in the few months since the Fall of Jerusalem, where they had killed each other for the first time. But it had always been either in anger or in lust, never as comfort. </p><p>"I am sorry, Yusuf," Nicolò whispered into his ear. "I am so sorry."</p><p>Yusuf moved in the embrace until Nicolò finally let go. "I have to find Rima. If she is still alive…" He didn’t finish the sentence. Even before the foreigners had swarmed his country, women who got abducted or simply stolen never fared a good fate. Yusuf forced his feet to move and went back to where they had left the horses. When he passed the little boy‘s body in the front garden, Yusuf stopped and carefully picked him up, ensuring that his head was safely tucked into his arm’s crook. He carried him back to the house and inside. Yusuf gently laid him down, pressing a kiss to his dirty temple. "I‘ll come back," he promised.</p><p>With a grunt, he forced the remains of the entrance door back into place, to make it harder for wild animals to enter. He would come back and bury his family, but for now, his priority was Rima. </p><p>Nicolò had fetched the horses who had trotted off a bit to nibble on some tufts of grass, and silently handed the reins of the mare to Yusuf. They mounted, and Yusuf spurred the horse into a smart trot. "They won’t be able to move fast," Yusuf explained to Nicolò, although the Genoan hadn’t asked. "Rima always insisted on riding not being proper for an honorable woman." A smile graced his lips, but it was more of a grimace. "I always mocked her for that attitude, as did my mother, but Rima was… <em> is </em>… the most headstrong woman I‘ve ever met." </p><p>"She is your sister?" Nicolò cast a glance over to Yusuf.</p><p>"No. Rima is my wife."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It didn’t take them long to find the tracks of the marauders. Nicolò dismounted and knelt in the dust, fingers spreading wide as he let his hand hover over one of the hoof prints. He hummed and stood. "They are seven," he then said with a certainty in his voice that made Yusuf not question his words. "Two of the horses are from my people. The other hoof prints belong to horses that were bred in these lands." </p>
<p>Yusuf frowned. "How can you know that?"</p>
<p>Something flitted through Nicolò‘s light eyes, something dark. "I am a nobleman‘s son. My father sired many sons, and I was the youngest. I enjoyed the same education my brothers obtained, for I was destined to be a soldier in my eldest brother’s personal guard. But three of my brothers died of St. Anthony‘s Fire, and my father decided that I had to join the church in Paolo’s place." He took a deep breath and mounted his stallion. </p>
<p>"I loved the hunt and learned to read all kinds of tracks." He pointed to the first print he had inspected. "You can see it is bigger and wider than all others but these." He pointed to a second series of hoof prints further to the side. "Which means they are from taller horses than those that your people ride. They are not from the same horse, though. This first one here wears shoes with waved sides; the shoes are forged like this so you can use stronger nails. The other tall horse wears shoes, too, but they are not as sturdy as those of the first horse. The others don’t wear shoes, and I can see five different tracks." </p>
<p>Yusuf stared at the dusty prints. He could easily see that they were from horse hooves, but that was about it. He shrugged. "And what does that mean?" </p>
<p>Nicolò prodded his horse to move. "That means all and nothing. They could be from my people — but there also might be your people with them." </p>
<p>Yusuf pressed his heels into the flanks of his mare. The horse whinnied and made a startled jump forward. "My people would never collaborate with murderers!" He spurred the mare into a hard gallop. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>***</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The sky was turning into a dark red when they finally saw the smoke of a fire in the distance.</p>
<p>"We need a plan. A strategy." </p>
<p>"We attack, we get Rima back and kill them all." Yusuf shrugged. </p>
<p>Nicolò shook his head. "How could you survive long enough to get killed by me?" He turned in the saddle, one hand loosely on the withers of the horse. "According to your grandmother, there was at least one Frank, maybe more — maybe they’re solely from my people. Which makes it easier for me to join them. If he’s a renegade, then my chances are good that they won’t simply kill me at first sight."</p>
<p>Yusuf chewed on his lower lip. "I don’t like that." </p>
<p>"It’s the only way to find out if I read the tracks correctly, and how heavily they are armed."</p>
<p>"I still don’t like that." Yusuf would rather die than agree with Nicolò on the first try, although he knew that their options were limited. </p>
<p>Nicolò shrugged and pressed his heels against the flanks of his horse. "You don’t have to. But you know it’s the only way to save your wife and maybe keep our secret." When Yusuf’s head jerked up at that, Nicolò added, "or do you want them to find out that we don’t stay dead? Do you want them to kill us over and over, or worse, claim us sorcerers? Well, I for sure don’t want that to happen." </p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>***</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It was easier than Nicolò had imagined. After a few more minutes of back and forth, Yusuf agreed to stay hidden until Nicolò could give him a sign to join him. "What sign. What<em> sign</em>?!" Yusuf growled frustrated when Nicolò rode away into the distance where he could see the light of the campfire the marauders had lit for the night. </p>
<p>It had gone against all that made Yusuf the man he was. He was a pacific man; raised to solve conflicts with the power of the word, not the sword, although of course he knew how to use it if it came to it. He was a skilled fighter; he had earned much praise from his commander when they had defended Jerusalem, and even led his own men into the final battle. </p>
<p>He sighed and rubbed his face. His men were all dead, and he should be, too. Yet Allah had decided to keep him alive — or at least wake him up again and again and again. Yusuf couldn’t see a reason behind that. Or maybe he couldn’t die until Rima was free and his family revenged? Was that the plan behind all that? But why would Allah bind him to an infidel, a stranger from a country who invaded his own? Yusuf groaned and rubbed his face again. He was just a simple man! Why did he have to wear such a burden?</p>
<p>Lost in his thoughts, Yusuf didn’t notice that the sun had meanwhile settled completely and was gone, leaving behind pitch black darkness, except for the small flicker of light at the horizon where the marauders — and Nicolò — were. </p>
<p>Yusuf exhaled with a loud puff. What if… what if Nicolò was part of those marauders and tricked him into just letting him rejoin them? What if he lied to him all those months since they decided that killing each other led nowhere? What if Yusuf had been nothing but a tool to find release until Nicolò could have a woman again — and on top of that, Yusuf's wife? </p>
<p><em> No. No, no. </em> Yusuf halted and froze. Just why did this hurt so much? Nicolò wasn’t his betrothed, he wasn’t even his friend! He was simply a travel companion, and one Yusuf merely tolerated. Or wasn’t he? And why did the thought of Nicolò lying with Rima hurt? And why did he think about Nicolò and not about Rima?</p>
<p>Yusuf clenched his teeth to keep from screaming. Yes, Nicolò and he had found release with each other once Yusuf had noted that Nicolò wasn’t averse to touching another man. There had been a few quick handjobs, casual, almost, and intercrural intercourse on one or two occasions, but they had never lost a word about it. It wasn’t something romantic, and certainly not love. It was practical. Nothing more.</p>
<p>And yet, all Yusuf could think about now was Nicolò, not Rima. He kicked against a small stone, startling his mare with his abrupt movement, and barely could keep her from neighing. He stepped over to her and gently caressed her soft nostrils. "He’s gone so long now," he murmured to her. "Did he betray me? What do you think?"</p>
<p>The mare flicked her ears in Yusuf’s direction, pressing her nostrils deeper into his hand, searching for food. Then, she tensed, her ears flicking away from Yusuf into the darkness. "What’s wrong?" Yusuf could barely whisper the words to try and soothe her when she neighed and scraped with a hoof. She eased her head out of his hand and looked into the darkness, the direction in which Nicolò had left Yusuf behind.</p>
<p>Yusuf’s heartbeat picked up speed. "Nicolò?" He could hear hooves pound the ground in front of him and quickly grabbed for his scimitar. "Do you have Rima?"</p>
<p>A horse stopped in front of him, but there was no rider on his back. The reins were cut and hung loosely from the horse’s muzzle, and in the light of the small campfire Yusuf had lit a few hours ago, behind the rocks where he had hidden himself from curious views, he could see that the saddle was blood-smeared. </p>
<p>"No. No, no!" Yusuf stared at the horse, then grabbed the reins of the mare and mounted her in one swift movement, without putting the scimitar back into its scabbard. This was certainly not the sign Nicolò had talked about, but Yusuf couldn’t be bothered to wait any longer. He spurred the mare into a fast gallop. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>***</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Erupted chaos and violence greeted Yusuf when he reached the marauder‘s camp. With the quick glance of a seasoned soldier, Yusuf counted three men on the ground, unmoving. Two of them bore the indistinct marks of a sword‘s deadly bite, while the third man‘s neck was bent in the unnatural position of broken vertebrae. Four other men were attacking Nicolò who had lost his sword in the scuffle and fought with a long dagger for his bare life. Rima was nowhere to be seen.</p>
<p>Yusuf didn‘t hesitate. He spurred his mare into two, three collected canter strides and mowed the first of the aggressors down. Nicolò‘s eyes met his for the briefest of moments, face sprinkled with blood, his teeth shining white through open lips. Yusuf raised the scimitar again when one of the remaining men turned toward him and tried to attack him, but Yusuf was faster and slashed the man across the face, shattering bone with the force of his cut. He turned the mare around in the tightest circle she could manage without losing her step and spurred her into another charge, but it was too late. </p>
<p>The man his grandmother had described had grabbed Nicolò by the neck and pushed him forward, using him as a human shield. His free hand was holding his sword against Nicolò’s throat, while the second remaining man was lying on the ground, curled around Nicolò‘s dagger and groaning. </p>
<p>"Attack me, and he will die!" The marauder‘s words were barely intelligible with the obvious lack of knowledge of the common tongue. </p>
<p>With a brutal jerk on her reins, Yusuf wrenched the mare into an abrupt halt. She commented with a snort and a shake of her head but obeyed. </p>
<p>"Ah, so—" The rest of the man‘s words were incomprehensible for Yusuf since he had switched back into his own language, probably because of the lack of words in the Common Tongue. But Yusuf could see how Nicolò‘s eyes widened and how he started to curse and squirm in the man‘s hold to get free. This made both men move some steps to the side, and Yusuf felt his blood freeze in his veins when that allowed him to gaze past them to the rocks they had used as shields for their backs when they set up camp. </p>
<p>Someone was lying there. The skirts were shoved high past the waist, baring long, slender legs smeared with blood, and although Yusuf couldn‘t see her face he knew it was Rima. A sound tore out of his throat that he had never heard before, and his heels kicked the mare into the flanks without him consciously willing them to. He eased his left foot out of the stirrup and attacked.</p>
<p>The man twisted his face into a snarl, baring his teeth, and cut Nicolò‘s throat swift and deep. Yusuf could see the white glimmer of bone before the cut filled rapidly with blood, gushing over the hands Nicolò had clamped around his neck to stop it from flowing. He slowly sank to his knees and dropped to the side, while the marauder lifted his sword to counter Yusuf‘s blow with the scimitar. </p>
<p>The scimitar slapped the sword away as if it was nothing but a piece of wood. Yusuf followed the move of the scimitar, half easing out of the saddle, sliding down the right side of the mare, his full weight riding on his right foot in the stirrup, while his left leg clamped around the horse‘s back with an iron grip. The sharp blade of the scimitar hissed through the air and cut deeply into the small patch of skin that was visible between the casually donned leather band that served as gorget and the marauder’s jerkin. It got stuck there, but Yusuf let go of it and stopped the mare after two more powerful strides, turning her around while pulling himself back straight up in the saddle. </p>
<p>The man stared at him with disbelief and fell, dead, before he hit the ground. </p>
<p>Eerie silence blanketed the camp like a veil, only interrupted by the heavy breaths of Yusuf’s mare and the quiet moaning of the man with Nicolò’s dagger piercing his guts. </p>
<p>Yusuf dismounted and moved over to where Rima lay with halting steps. He blinked and tried to clear his vision from the tears that filled his eyes, but it was to no avail. He knelt next to her, gently caressing the long black hair away from her face, and couldn’t hold back a sob when her unseeing eyes stared back at him. "I am sorry. I am so sorry!" Yusuf leaned forward and kissed her temple, then righted her skirts. Once Nicolò was alive again, he shouldn’t see her in such a disgraceful state. It was only then that Yusuf noticed that Nicolò hadn’t gasped back to life like he had done so many times before after Yusuf killed him.</p>
<p><em> Oh no</em>. Yusuf tore his gaze away from Rima to look at Nicolò’s unmoving form. They had only been killed by each other before and returned to life. But what if that spell was broken if one of them was killed by another person? A terror gripped Yusuf’s heart he hadn’t felt before. Losing his family, his beloved ones was a pain ineffable, but also losing Nicolò whom he — Yusuf wasn’t sure what he felt for Nicolò. He used to be his enemy, but when it proved impossible to kill him and get rid of him, he had somehow gotten used to the thought of having Nicolò by his side, probably for all eternity. </p>
<p>Yusuf had been a practical man all his life. When his father decided he had to marry Rima despite knowing about Yusuf’s preferences when it came to who he took to bed, Yusuf had accepted it, being the obedient son he was. He knew he should share a bed with Rima, and do so more often to get the expected heir. It wasn’t Rima’s fault, never had been. She was a beautiful, passionate, intelligent woman, but that wasn’t what made Yusuf’s veins burn with desire and his body tingle with lust. Rima had accepted that, expecting a certain kind of love to come and grow over the years, and being satisfied with that. Yes, Yusuf had loved Rima. But just not<em> that way</em>. Was this all here now a sort of punishment? For not trying hard enough? </p>
<p>A gasp tore him out of his thoughts, and Yusuf lifted his head, expecting Nicolò to slowly stagger to his feet. But it was the man with the pierced guts that had uttered the sound and had succeeded to pull the dagger out. A growing red spot on his torn clothes told Yusuf that he wouldn’t live for long, though. </p>
<p>And only now that he got a clear view on the man’s face did he recognize him. </p>
<p>"<em>Ahmad</em>?!" </p>
<p>The man stared back at him, then laughed, blood staining his teeth pink and splattering his lips. "Yes, Yusuf. Surprised?"</p>
<p>Yusuf scrambled to his feet. "What… what are you doing here? What… what is this all?!"</p>
<p>Ahmad pulled himself into a sitting position. "What do you think this is? Your father didn’t accept my offer." </p>
<p>"You," Yusuf still tried to bring order into the jumbled thoughts in the chaos of his mind. "You are the reason they are all dead. Not the infidel. It was your doing." </p>
<p>Ahmad laughed again, the sound one of a man who knew he was about to die, and with nothing to lose. "Clever boy. As always. I told your father it would have repercussions if he turned me down once again. I wanted Rima since you were reported dead, but your father denied my request. <em>He denied </em> it and reaped what he sowed." </p>
<p>"No. <em> No</em>!" Yusuf started, shaking his head. This couldn't be true. This couldn’t be happening! </p>
<p>"Oh, yes. But I still got what I wanted. Even if I die now, I got Rima. Your father should’ve simply given her to me! Now… now I still had Rima, as did all of the others, too. Including your friend." </p>
<p>Yusuf blinked. <em> What</em>?! This couldn’t be true. Nicolò had fought against the marauders when he arrived, hadn’t he? He leaped forward and grabbed Ahmad by the collar. "This isn’t true! I know you’re lying!"</p>
<p>Ahmad pressed his lips together and grinned, then gasped when Yusuf grabbed the discarded dagger and slit Ahmad’s throat, blind with rage.  </p>
<p>Yusuf pushed the body back in disgust and started to scream, wordless, anguished sounds of pain and terror and disbelief and betrayal. </p>
<p>He didn’t hear the gasp with which Nicolò came back to life. Didn’t see him crawl over to him, still healing and too weak to get up. He didn’t feel his touch when Nicolò grabbed for his leg to pull himself to his feet. </p>
<p>Only when Nicolò’s arms wound around his shaking form did Yusuf realize that Nicolò was back with him. The first flitter of gratitude gave a quick way to a bitter anger he had never felt before. He burst out of the embrace and pushed Nicolò back with a force that made the other man stumble and fall to the ground. Yusuf unsheathed the dagger he wore on his belt and knelt next to Nicolò, the blade slicing at the skin just like the marauder’s had only a few moments before. "Tell me," Yusuf demanded through clenched teeth, ignoring the shocked look in Nicolò’s eyes. "Tell me, is it true? Did you force yourself on Rima, too? Did you betray me to stay with them?!"</p>
<p>The shock in Nicolò’s pale eyes turned into hurt, and that unsettled Yusuf more than he wanted to admit. </p>
<p>"I have never and will never lie with a woman," Nicolò simply said and didn’t move, didn’t try to break out of Yusuf’s iron grip. He looked into Yusuf’s eyes with brutal honesty.</p>
<p>"And what? I shall believe you because you say so?"</p>
<p>Nicolò shook his head, a minute movement that still made the blade cut his skin and sent a small trail of fresh blood down his throat. "No. Because I have never lied to you."</p>
<p>Yusuf pressed the blade against the skin a little harder before it slipped from his suddenly feeble fingers. He sank to his heels, feeling the truth in Nicolò’s words reverberate right to his core. </p>
<p>"I tried to divert their thoughts from her. They had," Nicolò swallowed visibly, his Adam's apple dancing up and down. "They had already forced themselves on her before I entered the camp; probably had since they took her. She was… she was not in a good state. Her mind was lost in darkness, she couldn’t talk anymore." </p>
<p>"Ahmad said you took part in hurting her, too." Yusuf wasn’t willing to give in, to give up that anger that simmered through his veins and threatened to burn him. </p>
<p>"He was the man who ordered the attack on your home. He killed your brother." There were tears shimmering in Nicolò’s eyes now, too. "He bragged about how he killed the boy, how the child begged for mercy." </p>
<p>Yusuf flinched back, slapping his hands over his ears. "I don’t — I can’t…" </p>
<p>Strong arms pulled him into an embrace again, and although he struggled against them, they didn’t let him go this time. "I would never do that to a woman.  I would not do anything so vile to hurt you, of all people… You have to believe me. I am… I don’t… I am not bedding women." </p>
<p>It took Yusuf a few moments to realize that Nicolò had stopped talking and just held him. He pressed his face into Nicolò’s chest and wept until no more tears came.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b> <em>Today</em> </b>
</p><p>Joe moved when sleep slowly receded and gave way to consciousness. He was lying in a warm bed, soft blankets shielding his body from the world. All physical pain was gone, but there was still that oozing patch of scar in his soul that made him sluggishly blink his eyes open now. </p><p>He was alone in bed. </p><p>
  <em> Merrick.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Kozak. </em>
</p><p><em> KEANE! </em> </p><p>Joe startled up, the distant memory of a gunshot reverberating in his mind. "Nicky? Nicolò! <em> NICOLÒ</em>!" He fought with the blankets to escape the bed when the door to their room opened and Nicky entered. With two long strides, he was beside Joe and caught him before he could fall out of the bed when the blankets finally released his legs. </p><p>"<em>Sono qui, amore mio, va tutto bene, sono qui, sono vivo.</em>"  </p><p>Joe slung his arms around Nicky and pressed his face tightly into his stomach. "He shot you in the mouth." He could feel the deep breath Nicky was taking, and then how Nicky‘s hands gently removed his arms from around his shoulders, tugging at Joe until he sat upright. </p><p>"Yes, he did," Nicky simply said. "But I came back to you. I will always come back to you." </p><p>"I am sorry." Joe rubbed his temple. </p><p>"What for?" There was a sliver of amusement underlying Nicky‘s worried tone. </p><p>"Because we had a similar conversation already yesterday." Joe lowered his head. "I still killed him in revenge, <em>hayati</em>. I swore I would never do that again, after… after Ahmad took Rima. I broke this oath. Keane took you away from me like Ahmad and his men took Rima away from me, and I… I just couldn‘t… It took you so long to come back to me, and I was so scared..." </p><p>Nicky pulled him back into his arms. "Keane had the chance to defend himself. He deliberately chose to follow Merrick, to do evil. You stopped him. You didn‘t break your promise." </p><p>Joe clawed his fingers into Nicky‘s shirt. "I became a monster back then, and yesterday, it broke free again. I… I don’t trust myself anymore." </p><p>"I still trust you, my love. I will always trust you. You are the kindest man I know, with the friendliest heart I’ve ever met. You are not a monster." Nicky started kissing Joe, touching his skin softly like the wings of butterflies. </p><p>Joe returned the kiss when Nicky finally reached his lips, pulling him closer.  Desperation turned into desire and want until he pulled Nicky gently down to the bed. "<em>Hayati…</em>" </p><p>Nicky nodded with gleaming eyes, reached for the drawer, and pulled the bottle of lube out. He held it out to Joe. </p><p>"I trust you. You would never hurt me or another human being for pleasure or out of spite. You are a good man, Yusuf." </p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>***</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Nile looked up when the door opened and Joe and Nicky entered. She shot them a friendly but nervous smile. "Hey," she said, clearing her throat and pointing at the coffee maker. "I made it the way you like? Andy said so, at least."</p><p>Joe came over, letting go of Nicky‘s waist in the last possible moment. "Thank you, Nile." He bowed forward as if he planned to blow a kiss on her hair, but stopped himself, altering the movement into a pat on her shoulder. </p><p>"You… you feel okay?" Her voice was thin and insecure, as if she felt she was trespassing. </p><p>Joe nodded. "Yeah, as much as it is possible at the moment." He accepted the steaming cup Nicky gave him with a gracious nod, then looked at Nile so pensive that she started to squirm. "You know, I think we should tell you about how we began. Nicolò and me, that is." His smile was warm and welcoming, and when he sat down opposite of Nile on the long bench, Nicky slipped right next to him, their shoulders and knees touching. </p><p>Nile shrugged. "Oh, you don’t have to, not now, not until we’re somewhere safe. Until <em> you </em>feel safe." </p><p>Joe shook his head. "I think… I think we made this mistake once. Talked too late, talked not enough. It took two hundred years to make us see that we took some wrong turns. And Booker, he, he… he saw no other way out. We can’t afford to make that mistake again. So yes, I think we should do this now." He leaned forward and grabbed Nile‘s hand, squeezing it gently. "Our family is so small, and it will take another 100 years to complete it again."</p><p>"Okay." Nile breathed in, deeply, then smiled. "Go ahead."</p><p>Joe leaned back, shot a loving glance at Nicky, and began to speak. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Sono qui, amore mio, va tutto bene, sono qui, sono vivo. = I'm here, my love, it's alright, I'm here, I'm alive.</p><p>Thanks for reading!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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